


Go Away a Little Closer

by Blackbird Song (Blackbird_Song)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 20:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackbird_Song/pseuds/Blackbird%20Song
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hard day brings strife, understanding, and a proposition or two for the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go Away a Little Closer

**Author's Note:**

> In this fandom, I do not warn for canon character death, especially Jack's, especially if it's off-screen. As it were.
> 
> Written for [](http://arami.livejournal.com/profile)[**arami**](http://arami.livejournal.com/) in [](http://community.livejournal.com/thestopwatch/profile)[**thestopwatch**](http://community.livejournal.com/thestopwatch/)'s summer fic exchange. There are little allusions to TW episodes and old musicals peppered throughout this piece, as well as a slight one to a fan-fiction I read a while ago, whose title and author I cannot remember. My apologies and thanks to that story and its author.  
> As a reference image for a certain part of this fic, I used [this photograph](http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/enlarge/wolverine_image.html), but for pictures that give a more sympathetic view of this creature, I prefer [this page](http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0206/feature3/index.html?fs=animals-panther.nationalgeographic.com), especially the title photo, which reminds me of a scene in KKBB.  
> Many thanks to my husband for the beta.

_Present_

 

"Can't believe I'm bloody doing this," muttered Ianto as he scribbled on the paper.

"_You_ can't believe it?" Jack's furious scrawl nearly drowned out his clench-toothed protest.

"It was your idea!" Ianto thrust the paper he'd been tackling at Jack, even as he accepted the one shoved in his direction.

"Don't remind me," muttered Jack, a tremor in his voice that Ianto knew he couldn't have hidden from a deaf warthog, even though Jack would swear that not only was there no such tremor, but nobody else could possibly hear it.

Ianto stopped scribbling. "We don't have to do this, if … you don't want." He swore there wasn't anything at all in his voice to indicate anything out of the ordinary, and of course nobody else would pick it up, even if they did have 51st-century hearing.

Jack looked up sharply, eyes wide, frantic. "No!" Then, "No," he tried again, no calmer. He sighed in frustration, holding Ianto's gaze like a rabbit two yards in front of a speeding car. "Let's just get this _done_ before the sedative wears off," he all but snarled, flinging his eyes to the paper and redoubling his attack on it.

"You took a sedative," said Ianto, and no, his fingers weren't bloody trembling, "to do something you swore would make my life better."

"Al – most … done!" Jack swept his hand over the page in the classic Harkness flourish and looked up at Ianto. Panting.

Ianto stared at Jack, his pen poised in midair.

"Well?" barked Jack, "What are you waiting for?"

A throat delicately cleared almost brought Ianto's attention back.

"Would you like a moment alone?" asked a female voice from a million miles away.

"I think that might be best," managed Ianto, still fixed on Jack.

He heard an affirmative (he thought) and eight feet leaving the room (he counted) before the snick of the door ushered in a thick silence.

"What's the problem?" Jack stared and tapped his pen like a machine gun against he paper he'd just signed.

Ianto blinked at him. "You look like someone just shot you," he said.

"No I don't. Why would I look like that?"

"Would you care to try that again? Better chance of understanding it one word at a time."

Jack blinked. "Why would I look like someone shot me?"

"Ah, that's better. Took almost a second and a half, that time."

"Ianto," warned Jack.

Ianto sighed and looked at his pen, still poised over the signature line. "Because you don't want to do this," he said, quietly recapping his pen.

Jack seized his hand before the pen reached the table. Hard. "No!"

The word sounded torn from a great well of pain, and Ianto looked up to find anguished eyes locked on his. _How on earth did we get here?_

* * *

_Five Weeks Ago_

 

They were in a rowboat.

One that was rather in danger of sinking, Ianto thought, given how waterlogged they all were. "How does a blowfish not know how to swim?" he asked. "Or how to pilot a speedboat after a day joyriding through Cardiff in a stolen Bugatti Veyron? And … what on earth are you doing?"

"Resuscitating him," said Jack, heaving the victim's head and shoulders over the stern of the boat. "Stand up. Help me grab his legs."

"You want us all back in the drink, then?"

"No, so be careful and grab him before he starts thrashing!"

"Gives new meaning to 'fish out of water'," grumbled Ianto, as he helped Jack to hoist the alien upside down over Cardiff Bay. "What now?" he huffed.

"Watch out for your legs and feet!"

Before Ianto could respond, a rush of water poured from every orifice north of the scaly shoulders. The gill-slit fountains were particularly interesting. "Ugh!"

"Told you you should get some good boots."

Ianto's retort was pre-empted by a gasping, thrashing blowfish whom Jack helped Ianto wrestle to the transom.

"Will you… Hold still!" Jack clamped one hand on a bony shoulder and drew his Webley with the other.

"Ah! The dashing Captain—so preoccupied arguing with the office boy that he forgot his gun is all wet."

"Do they all talk like that?" asked Ianto, tossing Jack the cuffs from his jacket pocket.

"Part of the shoal mind," said Jack. "Ah!" he added sharply, cocking his gun against the finned head. "I've made a few modifications to this in the last few years. Want a demonstration?"

Ianto trained his own weapon on the blowfish, fixing him with a stare he reserved only for the most irritating of entities, like Owen misaiming the singularity scalpel, or the Threeps that had invaded the coffee machine, excreting syrupy sweetness into every cup.

> _"It's harmless—tastes like guarana," Jack had said. "Only it's an aphrodisiac more than a stimulant, and the fur kind of gets in the way."_

 

"Ooh, little office boy's come up in the world, has he? Might actually shoot me, might he?"

"I wouldn't tempt him, if I were you," suggested Jack, as he trussed the fish. "He hasn't exactly had the best day."

Ianto rolled his eyes as he sat down on the thwart and began to row back into port.

******

Furious. The fucking doorbell had buzzed him out of the comfort of a hot shower in a rare sojourn at his own flat—which he'd rented solely for its luxurious shower and its proximity to Torchwood—and he was fucking furious. Livid. Fit to kill. Especially after he'd nearly killed himself trying to fly into the loose jeans and t-shirt he'd laid out for after what he'd planned as a lengthy, luxurious release of tension. He glanced wistfully at his gun, strategically placed just inches away from his free hand as he reached for the door. "Look, I already told you: I don't want any of your tat, I already donated to your bloody charity, and I don't want any fucking visitors, so sod off—oh…" _Shit!_ "It's you," he muttered, standing aside.

"Great to see you, too," said Jack, peering at him as he passed by with the Thai takeaway.

Ianto shut the door, failing to hide his foulness of spirit. "I'll take that," he ordered, taking the bag from Jack before he could protest. "And boots off! You know better than that, by now."

"Sir, yes Sir!" Jack saluted him.

"Watch it, you 'orrible little man," said Ianto, starting to thaw a bit against all his better judgement.

He was about to put the food on the coffee table when Jack stopped his arm. "It's leaking a bit, I'm afraid."

Ianto just managed to wrestle the bag onto the kitchenette's counter before it let go. "Lovely," he mumbled, hands resting on the counter as he tried to decide whether to laugh or cry. And then, there was a big, comforting hand on his shoulder blade.

"Why don't you go sit down? Let me serve this up."

"No, that's alright. I'll do it." Ianto forced himself to straighten and reach for the plates.

"I can serve dinner, you know," teased Jack.

"I don't doubt it," said Ianto.

"No, but really," insisted Jack, "I've served dinner to the Queen. Well, Victoria."

"Really? Buckingham Palace or Balmoral?" Ianto wished more than ever that he could just go to bed and sleep off the day, as he'd planned when he'd made his excuses and left for his flat after situating the blowfish in the cell.

"Both," said Jack, pulling one plate from the cabinet above Ianto's head and the other from the dish drainer. "You don't have enough plates."

Ianto sighed, louder than he otherwise would. It was an ongoing argument.

"Sorry," soothed Jack near Ianto's ear. "I'm sorry. Wrong time."

Ianto blinked and turned, only to be enveloped by a sopping wet, modified RAF greatcoat with an over-abundance of affection. "Ugh!" He wrenched himself away and held Jack at arm's length. "You're soaked to the skin! Did you go for another swim?"

Jack suddenly looked a bit defeated. "Not till I walked to the Thai place."

"You walked?" Ianto checked the bag for the name of the place. "All the way there? What about the SUV?"

"It wouldn't start."

"And then you walked…. Right. Off!" Ianto pushed the coat off Jack's shoulders. "You're having a hot shower, right now."

"I don't really—"

"I saw you die twice today. All in the line of duty, of course." He hoped, as always, that he'd managed to keep the way he felt about this out of his voice. "Don't need to see you catch your death of cold in my flat," he said, as lightly as he could.

"All right," said Jack, a bit more meekly than usual, as he pulled back and turned towards the bathroom.

Ianto cursed himself silently. "Jack…"

He stopped and turned, and the look in his eyes went straight to Ianto's conscience.

Two seconds later they were hugged tight in each other's arms, and Ianto could feel Jack trembling. "Rough day." His lips rested against Jack's steady pulse—the carotid that had been severed by the flying glass just hours before.

"Same here."

"Thanks for saving my life."

Jack kissed his cheek with a tender desperation that made Ianto ache. "Thank you for staying with me till I came back the second time."

"Yeah, well, I might not be doing that again too soon," said Ianto, wincing as Jack touched the bruise on his face.

"Sorry about that," said Jack, who was failing rather miserably at his attempt at lightness, Ianto thought.

"It's all right. I'll just have to remember to stay out of arm's reach. Or tie you up."

Jack huffed a humourless laugh. "Normally I love it when you tie me up, but—"

"No, probably not," agreed Ianto. The feel of Jack's arms and hands, soaked though they were, eased long-held tension from his shoulders. That allowed him to feel Jack's fear soaking into him along with the chilly Cardiff rain. He drew his arms tighter around him.

"You could always try holding me closer," suggested Jack, quietly.

Ianto squeezed until he worried about Jack's ribs. "I thought I was."

"You are," said Jack, breathless.

Ianto loosened his grip immediately. "Sorry."

"No problem," said Jack, grinning against Ianto's cheek. "I just meant that if you hold me close enough, it's harder for me to hit you. You'd have to hang on pretty tight, though."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Ianto, "as long as you die in a convenient place."

"I'll do my best."

Both men shivered.

"Right," said Ianto, disengaging from the embrace. "Into the shower with you. I'll find you some clothes and keep dinner warm, even though my oven can't possibly do justice to those of her late Majesty."

"You never saw those ovens," scoffed Jack over his shoulder, before disappearing into the bathroom.

Ianto hung Jack's coat on the sturdiest hanger he had and deposited it on the coat rack to drip over the bit of lino by the front door. Then he pulled himself together over the six (short) steps to the kitchenette, salvaged the containers of hot food from the bag and set them to warm in the oven. The cool items, he put in the fridge—after a careful sniff to make sure nothing had moved in since he'd last visited. He tried calming himself some more during the five (short) steps to the bedroom.

A rummage through his drawers produced a nasty old tracksuit and a set of pyjamas that should fit Jack. He looked at them both and groaned. He really hoped that The Captain would choose the stained grey tracksuit with the holes developing at the knees and elbows. The pyjamas … he shuddered and laid both options out on the bed.

He was busy cleaning the counter—as loudly as he could—when he heard Jack's howl from the bedroom. "Fuck!" he muttered.

"Where are the claws?" bellowed Jack.

"Bloody fuck," amended Ianto, under his breath.

"Ianto!"

"Nowhere you'll ever find them," said Ianto. "Twat," he added _sotto voce_.

"I can find _anything_!"

"Not if it wasn't ever made!"

"Well, then, I'll just have to have some made, won't I?"

"Right," sighed Ianto to himself, as he pulled the food from the oven. "Dangerous twat, it is, then."

He was just setting containers on the table when Jack leapt from the bedroom with the terrifying grace of a circus elephant and let out a deafening, lupine howl. Ianto stared, transfixed, vaguely aware and grateful that he'd removed all the food from any place that could burn it.

"You like it?" Jack grinned, posing like a superhero in a bodybuilding competition.

"It … is a unique look on you." Ianto didn't know quite how he managed that, or quite how he was having to fight off a completely inexplicable erection at the sight of Captain Jack Harkness in the ghastly yellow and blue Wolverine pyjamas.

Jack turned his head in perfect profile and threw it back just far enough to show off his magnificent jawline (_"Once seen, always craved,"_ he'd told Ianto long ago, before kissing him for the first time), and howled yet again, as though baying at the moon.

_Fuck!_ "Wolverines don't h-howl," he said, when he could.

"They don't?" Jack turned and started stalking towards him. "Well … what _do_ they do, then?" he asked, silkily.

Ianto just blinked as the blood in use by his brain began to migrate south, at a certain speed. _Wolverines … largest of the family _mustelidae_ … they_ "Eat!"

Jack faltered, smile wavering in confusion.

"They eat. Anything. Everything. Dried up old bones if they have to. Hungry?" He gestured toward the food with his last ounce of resolve.

Jack smiled again and reached for Ianto's arms, pulling him in for a surprisingly gentle kiss. "Starving," he said, relief filling his voice as warmth filled his eyes.

They ate ravenously and mostly in silence. Ianto was grateful for that, as it allowed him to concentrate on the food in front of him, rather than the way Jack's body filled and stretched the garish pyjamas. Then they sat together and watched the telly for a bit, also in companionable quiet whilst Jack's coat took eons to dry. Unfortunately, not even a backlog of Paul O'Grady on TiVo could quite shake Ianto out of his mood, tonight.

As he did the washing up, Ianto reflected that it was odd, seeing his current lover in something given to him by his dead fiancée, especially when his current lover had personally executed his dead fiancée. It was odder (or more awkward, at any rate) that he was almost as irrepressibly hard at the sight of Jack in that piece of absolute tat as he had been at the sight of him in those beautiful khakis from the nineteen hundreds. The very thought of that night made him shiver and sent another surge to his cock. He shook his head in mortification. "At least the khakis made sense," he mumbled.

"Something wrong?"

"Nope," lied Ianto, barely hanging onto the plate that had slipped when Jack startled him.

"For a guy who says there's nothing wrong, you're wound up pretty tight," said Jack, squeezing his shoulder with a smirk that Ianto could hear.

"Yeah, well … rough day."

Jack sidled closer, wrapping his arms around Ianto's waist. "Rough day and a hard-on that won't quit," he purred.

With a force of will that would have made Uncle Emlyn proud, Ianto finished rinsing the plate and deposited it in the dish drainer before rolling his eyes and mouthing "Fuck!" as he faced away from Jack.

"I heard that," chuckled Jack against Ianto's ear.

"Must be losing my touch," grumbled Ianto, still stiff as a board.

"Yeah, you are. You didn't even hear me come up behind you, which is odd, considering that you always seem to know where I am. What's up?"

"Apart from me, you mean?" huffed Ianto.

"Hold that thought," said Jack, nipping Ianto's ear before he backed off. "Now talk to me."

"Must I?"

"Yup, 'fraid so," said Jack, perching on the counter.

"Thought one of the advantages of shagging a man was you didn't have to talk about that sort of thing."

"Not where I'm from," said Jack. "We talked about our feelings all the time."

Ianto's head whipped around as though driven by an outside force, and he stared at Jack in stunned disbelief.

"No, really, we did. We were all much freer about that sort of thing than you lot."

"What made you stop, then?"

"Just the usual." Jack looked at Ianto. "You know."

Ianto did know, and he curled a hand over Jack's knuckles as they gripped the kitchen counter. "It's stupid really," he said, feeling himself go crimson. "There's been so much death, these past few weeks, and all I can do when I see you in a horrible set of pyjamas Lisa gave me for a joke one Christmas is get so hard I can't think straight."

Jack chuckled. "Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Maybe not to you," snorted Ianto, "but to me, it's disrespectful."

"I can change, you know," said Jack, quietly. "I didn't know Lisa had given you this outfit."

"No, it's all right," said Ianto, too quickly. Then he groaned. "When did I turn into an old queen with a costume fetish?"

Jack laughed, softly. "You're not old, there's nothing wrong with a costume fetish—in fact, I find it _quite_ sexy—and last I knew, your name wasn't Elizabeth. Unless you'd like it to be, of course, in which case I can—"

"No, thanks! That's quite all right."

"Good," said Jack with a chuckle. "You don't strike me as an Elizabeth. Besides," he added, turning his hand palm up under Ianto's and stroking his wrist, "I like your name. All two syllables of it."

"I know," breathed Ianto. "It's one of the main reasons I haven't killed you a few times."

"I thought you might try it that night Rhys called you 'Yan' at the pub," grinned Jack. "Thought I'd have to hold you back." He smoothed his hand up Ianto's arm and under the short sleeve.

Ianto sighed and leaned slightly into the touch. "Yeah, well. Didn't want Gwen hunting me down in the middle of the night," he muttered.

"Yeah, and then I'd have had to find her just as she got to you, and we'd have had a threesome. Damn! Too bad Rhys is too nice to kill, cause that could've been fun!"

"Not as fun as four." Ianto pulled his mobile from his pocket. "Want me to see if they're available, now?" He had his finger on the appropriate speed-dial entry in a flash.

Jack's hand caught Ianto's in a firm grip, preventing him from completing the action. "All right, now I _know_ something's wrong. What's happened to you?" He tilted towards Ianto and searched his eyes.

Ianto felt the wind go out of him. "I went to see Christina last night, before everything went haywire."

"Good," said Jack, smiling. "How is she?"

"We had a nice little chat about this and that, and then she died in my arms."

Jack took the mobile from Ianto's hand. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, voice unsteady.

"It was all so peaceful," said Ianto. "I was giving her a hug goodbye and thanking her for being such a good friend—told her I'd see her again as soon as I could, and she kissed me and said goodbye and just breathed out and that was it. It was beautiful." His voice broke and the tears pricked his eyes.

"I'm glad she had you with her at the end," said Jack, quietly. "She deserved the best."

"I didn't do anything."

"You did a lot."

"I just hugged her. I didn't even know she was dying."

"With any luck, she didn't know, either. Not till it happened. Besides, it doesn't matter. You loved her, and she knew you were there. That's what counts." Jack slid off the counter and took Ianto in his arms. "There's no-one better to have with you when you die. I should know." He kissed Ianto's brow.

Ianto buried his face in Jack's neck and held on. "You've no idea how much I wish I could argue with that," he managed, at last, fervently.

Jack's breath started hitching violently against Ianto's neck.

"Jack? What is it? What's—oh, you… stop that! Get off me!"

"I'm sorry," wheezed Jack. "I can't help it! I love it that you always make me laugh, even at the worst moments."

Ianto glared at him.

"Keeps me sane," said Jack, with a wink. He reached for the next plate.

"If you drop that…"

"I'm perfectly capable of doing the dishes, you know. Here. I'll wash, you dry!"

"No."

"What?"

"I'll wash, you go sit somewhere."

"But…"

"I can't concentrate while you're wearing that."

Jack put the plate back down and insinuated himself into Ianto's personal space. "Can't have that, can we? Though I could always buy you a new set of…crockery," he intoned against the most erogenous part of Ianto's ear.

Mustering every bit of control he had, Ianto drew back and reclaimed the space Jack had stolen. He pointed towards the lounge. "Out! Go be a good mustelid and ferret out the slick, cause you're going to need it in … ten."

Jack shivered and grinned. "Yes, sir!"

As Jack sprang away from the kitchenette, Ianto gritted his teeth and finished the washing up. Then, he cleaned every surface he could think of, and a few he sort of had to make up, thinking all the while about the housecleaning shows that always made him feel quite sick when he had to watch them. He wondered how Woodburn and McKenzie would feel if they knew that larder beetles were actually not native to earth, and that they shared that distinction with half the homeowners on the show.

Ten minutes of tedium and revolting thoughts went by in a flash, and Ianto used the loo while he still could, splashed cold water on his face, dried off and marched into the bedroom.

Jack was bound, hand and foot, to the bed, a gaffer's tape gag making an ugly gash across his face. He'd used his service handcuffs to cuff his hands together through the headboard, which would have made Ianto shake his head in disgust, but for the fact that he couldn't stop staring at the wanton figure before him. Stretched across the bed, stretching the one-piece pyjama set, huge erection prominent and twitching as it pushed tensile strength even closer to its limit, flushed skin and fevered eyes begging for attention, Jack was perfect. And oh, but Ianto so wanted just to peel him and have his way with him, just as Jack had laid himself out. But then he saw the pull of the gaffer's tape on flawless skin and the angry red already starting to develop as arms strained and pulled and abraded against metal cuffs, and he couldn't—didn't want to do it quite this way.

He stalked towards Jack, knee-walking onto the bed until he sat astride hips that arched up to meet him. He leant down and kissed every bit of Jack's face that wasn't hidden by the tape, relishing the little moans that came when he kissed Jack's eyes—the ones that spoke of intimacy deeply craved and rarely shared. He lingered there, stroking Jack's face as he kissed every contour until he saw a new kind of plea in Jack's face. "Brace yourself, cariad," he murmured, and then he yanked off the tape.

"Aaagh!" screamed Jack. "How come you only ever use that word when something really, really awful is about to happen?"

"Don't know," said Ianto, kissing the reddened skin, gently. "Want me to try 'wanker,' instead?"

"Too Owen," complained Jack. Then, he looked into Ianto's eyes. "I'm sorry."

Ianto stroked Jack's face. "Don't be. Means you're remembering him like he was." He bent down to kiss him, soft and deep. "Just don't bring him in here too often."

"Once a year?"

"Tops. Keys."

"Huh?"

"To the cuffs? You know, the ones that are scratching my bed and making you bleed all over it?"

"Oh! Behind the slick."

Ianto stretched over to reach them, being absolutely sure to rub his inner thigh accidentally-on-purpose over Jack's cock.

Jack moaned, this time in demanding want.

Ianto paused at just the right place for Jack's writhing arch of torso to miss the mark. "I'm sorry, did you want something?"

"Ianto…"

"You want me? How flattering. But you'll have to be a good boy to get me, right?"

"Ianto!"

"That doesn't sound like you being a good boy," said Ianto, rising up sufficiently to break all physical contact with Jack.

"I'm bleeding all over your bed," Jack pointed out, with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"Oh, dear, that _is_ a problem. Well, I should dial 999 then, shouldn't I? It'll be a bit embarrassing, but then, I'm sure they've had lots of calls from people who've lost keys, before."

"Maybe they'll send someone cute. Could be fun!"

"You know, I've just remembered my phone isn't working properly. And my memory's a bit faulty. I think I'll have to go back to the Hub to find out what number I'm supposed to ring on my mobile. You just stay here for a bit, and I'll see if I can find my way back to … where was I going, again?"

"I'll scream," warned Jack.

"I soundproofed this place when I moved in. And the neighbours are gone for the month. Annual holiday in Spain."

"All right, all right, I give up! See, that's why you should've left the gag on me." Jack peered up at Ianto. "Are you sure you want the cuffs off?"

"It's that or we don't do this at all," said Ianto, flatly. He rubbed his eyes. "I've really had enough of blood and restraints for one day. Had enough blood for a while, actually," he added, very quietly.

"Then I'll be very, very good," said Jack, gently.

Ianto smirked and reached for the key, unlocking the cuffs. "That'll be a first," he chuckled.

"Hey! I'm always good," purred Jack, rubbing his wrists.

"True," Ianto conceded.

"How about my feet?"

"Well, since you used my least favourite ties, I'll let you choose. Nothing wrong with a little compromise."

"Maybe … leave 'em tied for a bit? Kinda hot, don't you think?"

"Oh, yeah," said Ianto in a low growl. He leant down to Jack, letting his arousal pour itself into his kiss.

"Ianto," breathed Jack. "I want so much to touch you."

"Be my guest," murmured Ianto. "But let me do the talking for a bit."

Jack nodded furiously and wrapped his arms tight around Ianto, stretching for another kiss.

Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to insist on doing the talking, since all he wanted to do was drown in Jack. If he had to talk, it would mean breathing and thinking when he could be kissing and tasting and drinking him in through every pore, revelling in 51st-century pheromones that had driven him wild since the first time they'd met—not that he'd ever admit that to anyone, especially Jack. Not that everyone didn't know that already, especially Jack.

Jack's hands smoothed and circled their way over every inch of his back, caressing shoulders and soothing muscles until warm fingers cradled Ianto's face, carefully cupping the angry bruise that throbbed with the increasing pulse of his arousal. Suddenly, Jack's kiss seemed desperate, hungry for more than just touch or release.

Ianto stroked Jack's hair, opening to him deeply and caressing with tongue and touch.

As gently and slowly as Ianto at last pulled away, Jack still whimpered with loss.

"I liked it when you hit me, today."

"HNNNGHH!???"

Ianto chuckled. "Two reasons: One, I knew you'd come back to life, when you did that."

Jack stared at him as though he should be considering a long stay in a soft room.

"I don't always assume you will, you know," said Ianto. "Anyway, second, you owed me one. Now we're even, and I don't have to wonder when I'm going to have to let you knock me out."

Jack's eyes widened further.

"You really are being a very good boy," said Ianto, with a grin.

Jack's eyebrows plunged into a deep frown.

"Albeit in a naughty sort of way." Ianto rubbed gently, for a moment, at the deepest part of Jack's frown. "You never did get to return the favour when I laid you out for setting Myfanwy on Lisa."

Jack caressed Ianto's face, eyes filling with shadow.

"No, really. You owed me one. More than. And now you've paid me back, so you're never allowed to hit me again."

Jack raised one eyebrow and cocked his head askance.

"Can't blame me for trying." Ianto winked his sexiest wink.

Jack groaned and pulled him down for another kiss, this time arching up and pressing his erection against Ianto's.

"So, we have a Wolverine, here, do we? Hmm… Nice, broad head; soft brown, spiky fur… so much softer than the original…" He stroked Jack's hair. "Blue eyes—much prettier than any I've seen on an actual Wolverine, Jackman included."

Jack looked soulfully into Ianto's eyes.

"Strong, straight nose … nice and masculine … lots and lots of huge, shiny white teeth."

Jack gave Ianto a delighted grin, which Ianto kissed, being sure to savour the feel of those teeth with a slow swipe of his tongue.

"Gorgeous, powerful jaw…" Ianto traced from hinge to jaw point to chin, fingers on one side meeting a trail of kisses on the other. "Your prey never has a chance," he murmured, dipping into Jack's mouth, again.

Jack gave a small moan that always meant, 'I love this, don't ever stop, but you're killing me!'

Ianto delved deeper, smiling to himself as Jack also kissed him ravenously. "Anything I can do, you can do better?" he asked, when they broke apart.

Jack raised a very smug eyebrow.

"And then we have this lovely, muscular neck," said Ianto, pointedly ignoring the response and kissing his way down Jack's throat. "Some might call it a bit stiff, at times."

Jack bucked up against him, and Ianto could just _hear_ him saying, _'You want stiff? I'll show you stiff…'_

Ianto bit Jack's neck just enough to sting. "Wouldn't want to mar the perfection of your skin, but don't push it," he warned.

Jack gave his neck a squeeze that was both apologetic and impatient.

"Big, strong paws," purred Ianto, turning his face into Jack's palm and kissing it. "Built for hard work and digging—so nice when they dig into my back after a long day. Lovely on my face, my body, my cock…" He ground his erection against Jack's as he sucked the fingers that traced his lips. "Love your hands," he murmured.

Jack took Ianto's hand and kissed it with a tenderness that surprised Ianto.

"And look at these gorgeous, muscled forelegs," said Ianto, beginning a journey down Jack's arm, not daring to look into his face. He kissed wrist and forearm, nuzzled the inside of the elbow, hid his face against the bicep. "So strong—built to take on any task, defeat any enemy, even if it's bigger than you, climb out of any danger…" His voice broke a little as the image of Jack buried alive slammed into his mind. "They feel so good against my skin at night in your den." He sat up enough to tear off his t-shirt, surreptitiously wiping moisture from eyes and face along the way. _Sweat. Definitely sweat, that's all Jack will see,_ he nodded to himself. And then he saw Jack's eyes. _Shit._

Jack's expression shifted at Ianto's thought, and with a gleam in his eyes, he ran his hands up Ianto's sides and back, drawing him down into a powerful hug.

"Oh, yeah, just like that! Only maybe without this horrible circus costume you scavenged." Ianto shivered, though, as he traced the lines of muscle pushing just where they should. "Horrible thing," he whispered as he bent to kiss a flexing bicep, a rippling pectoral, a hot, hard shaft demanding to be freed, "to cover up…" he kissed his way up to Jack's throat and began to lower the zip, "such a beautiful … beautiful … creature." Punctuating words with kisses to newly revealed skin, Ianto slid the zip carefully downward, covering heated flesh with his hand to guard against rough teeth.

Jack's hips surged upwards, the pull on his legs straining the ties binding his ankles to the bed. His hands pulled away from Ianto, grasping fistfuls of sheet as his cock throbbed in Ianto's hand. And then he all but screamed when Ianto's hand withdrew to release his bonds.

"Steady, Jack. I won't be thanking you if you kick me today, as well."

"Sorry," said Jack, voice hoarse with pent-up need and hard-attempted silence.

Ianto finished freeing Jack's ankles and rubbed them gently. "No more talking," he said softly. "Still my job." He turned back around to caress Jack's face. "All right?"

Jack nodded and reached for him.

Ianto kissed him, soothing and cooling just a little, and then smoothed his hands underneath the pyjamas, easing them off one arm at a time and then down the torso and over hips and thighs as Jack lifted himself to help, until he could toss them away, peel off his own jeans in record time and concentrate on Jack's legs.

"Such powerful legs," he murmured against an inner thigh. "Built for running and capturing your prey." He kissed the thigh nearest his lips and bit the other one, causing a delicious shiver to run up Jack's body. "Strong knees." He licked behind one. "Strong feet." He kissed the top of the opposite foot, eliciting a long groan. "With so much ground to cover, you need good legs." He kissed his way up to Jack's groin, nuzzling his sac and burying his nose in the soft junction of body and leg.

Jack's hand landed trembling on his head, fingers combing through his hair.

"Your scent," said Ianto, voice thick with desire. "So wild and strong and intoxicating. So inciting…" Ianto devoured Jack's cock without warning, squeezing the base to hold off orgasm and keep bucking hips in place as Jack roared in surprise. He didn't have to slip fingers inside Jack to know that he'd prepared. He did have to reach across Jack for slick of his own, and that's where Jack got hold of him and pulled him off, eyes burning with need. "What do you want, Jack?" panted Ianto. "Anything…."

"You. Inside me. After I've slicked you up, but not with that." Jack sat up part way against the pillows and tugged at Ianto's hips until he was astride Jack's chest.

"God, yes! But don't let me come," warned Ianto, closing his eyes as Jack's lips closed around his cock. "Oh, GOD!" The pain of fingers forestalling his orgasm was slight compared to the feeling of Jack's hot mouth and the exquisite anticipation of fucking Jack sometime in the next thirty goddamn seconds. He wondered if he could die of pleasure if he kept this up for much longer. Then he realised, as he heard the change in Jack's breathing, that Jack could, and might if he didn't stop fucking Jack's mouth like that. "Jack," he managed.

Jack released him and slid down, drawing his legs up and back.

Ianto positioned himself, drawing Jack's legs over his shoulders. "Ready?"

Jack glared at Ianto.

"Take a deep breath…" He plunged in as Jack was starting to roll his eyes.

"Aaaagh!" yelled Jack, eyes rolling back into his head.

Ianto froze. "You all right?" he gritted.

"Yes! Move, damn it!"

Ianto grinned. "Your wish is my command. But just this once." He thrust hard into Jack, who grimaced and then groaned in pleasure as Ianto changed his angle and started the sensual rhythm that always made Jack turn to jelly. "God, you feel so good!"

And then there was no more talking. There was moving and sensation and sweat and kissing and breathing and hands applied just _there_ and licking and "Oh!" and Ianto wanted to climb inside Jack, and balls-deep suddenly was too far away. He pulled Jack up onto his thighs and planted himself deep, deep inside and hooked his arms under Jack's shoulder blades and they rocked back until he was sitting on his ankles and Jack was impaling himself on Ianto's cock and this was almost close enough.

The world went quiet as they rocked together, Ianto close enough to feel the thrum of Jack's heartbeat. The heartbeat that would go on long after his had stopped. Eternity. He was inside Eternity, and the world spun round faster than it ever had and everything stood still, all at once, as the cosmic impossibility of making love to a fixed point in time and space washed over him and all of a sudden, everything was too close and too far away and the sheer ridiculousness of it all made him want to laugh or cry or kill himself or come. He loved this! He loved the power of it all; the fact that he could shag Eternity and stay sane and be strong and have meaning because Jack was Eternity, and Jack needed him. He loved Jack. Most of all, he loved Jack.

And then Jack cried out and came, constricting around his cock and painting their bellies. Ianto followed seconds later, shouting Jack's name. He hoped.

They lay together, sprawled across the foot of the bed, spent, barely touching, panting until they could catch enough breath to smile.

"I don't know how you managed to keep that up for as long as you did, but I gotta tell you, you're _good_!"

"Better 'n you?"

"Well, you got me more excited than I could have," grinned Jack.

"Yup," agreed Ianto.

Jack dissolved in quiet laughter and took Ianto in his arms, kissing him deeply with an appreciative hum. "So did you keep those pyjamas around just for me?" he purred.

"Carried 'em around in my back pocket. Reckoned it wouldn't hurt to slip 'em on some day while you were dead and let Owen find you like that."

"Hey! What was that about not bringing him in here more than once a year?"

"My flat," shrugged Ianto, "My choice."

Jack's subdued silence threatened to take root and loom.

Ianto turned to look at him, stroking the hand that rested absently on his chest. "You all right?"

"You don't get out, enough."

Ianto snorted. "And you do?"

"I live at the Hub, though. You don't."

"Might as well do," countered Ianto. Then, "Oh. You'd rather I wasn't there so much. Well, that's all right, I'll just go home with Gwen every evening. I mean, when Gwen does. Not w-with her. Doubt Rhys would like that too much…"

"I knew what you meant."

There was an endless silence as Ianto's world dissolved in slow motion and began to pour itself into the abyss. At least, it felt endless. Ianto's unerring sense of time told him it was really only a few seconds. Always enough to end something important. He rallied himself and said, "Well, I'd better go see if—"

Just as Jack said, "Marry me."

"—your clothes are … dry…."

"What?"

"What?"

They stared at each other.

"I asked first," said Jack.

"My flat," said Ianto.

"I said…" Jack swallowed. "I said, 'Marry me'."

"And I said that I'd better see if your clothes have dried."

"Well?"

"Oh. Yes, of course," said Ianto, bolting from the bed and donning his jeans. "I'll just go and—"

"Ianto—"

Ianto bolted from the room, then, as the dust of his pulverised world suddenly reversed course, flew up into the heavens and reformed itself into a hideous vision of a gingerbread castle, dripping with sweets, hovering right over his head and threatening to fall on him at its whim. All it needed was a witch, he thought, and immediately pictured John Hart.

He checked the clothes slung over the shower door and cursed under his breath for not having a heated towel rack for such emergencies. Five (long) steps of fuming between the bathroom and the coat rack started to calm his nerves a little, but finding the coat still damp was disappointing. "You're usually a lot faster about shedding the rain," he murmured, adjusting the collar and shoulder seams. He coaxed the epaulettes into place, careful not to stretch wet wool out of shape.

"If you want to marry the coat, you'll have to take what comes inside it, as well."

Ianto froze, gathering himself and his dignity. He failed. "Remind me to put a bell on you," he muttered, letting his forehead fall onto the shoulder of the coat.

"So are you going to?" Jack sounded as though he were miles away.

"Put a bell on you? Don't tempt me…" Ianto busied himself setting the coat to rights.

"Marry me. Are you going to marry me?"

Ianto took a huge breath, and turned to Jack. "Not at this precise moment, no." Then, he looked up.

Jack was naked.

Ianto's heart sank.

Jack folded his arms across his chest. "Not ready for immortality?"

Ianto shivered. "Something like that."

Jack's eyes dropped and he took a deep breath. "Then move in with me."

"You just told me I spend too much time in the Hub, and now you're asking me to move in with you. Should I be arranging for Martha Jones to make an emergency visit?"

A flash of something—confusion, perhaps, pain—zipped through Jack's eyes. And then, he looked down. "Torchwood takes too much."

Ianto blinked. "Yes, and we're soon going to need three Earths just to grow enough food to feed China, the polar icecaps are melting, and Myfanwy eats so much meat that I'm going to have to start retconning the local butchers. Your point?"

"We—I—you need a life outside of Torchwood! Like Gwen has with Rhys. Someone to wake up with and go to sleep with every day. A change of scenery. Sunrise and sunset. Someone to know you too well and—what are you doing?"

Ianto had switched off the lights and was now peering out the window. "Just checking to make sure we're still in 21st-century Cardiff. I thought for a moment we'd slipped through the Rift and landed in the West End back in the seventies. And if you launch into _I Don't Know How to Love Him_, I'll retcon you, myself."

Jack lit up. "You _did_ listen to those albums!"

"And you quoted old musicals to try to get me to move in with you." Ianto flipped the lights back on.

"Oi! I'm naked, here!" Jack spread his hands wide, leaving himself viewable by all.

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Never bothered you before," he muttered, tossing him the sofa blanket.

"Never been turned down after a marriage proposal, before."

Ianto sat down heavily on the sofa. "Jack, what do you want from me? Why do you want me to move in with you?"

"I'd have thought it was obvious. I like your company. You seem to like mine. Seems silly to live apart."

"And yet you live at the Hub and want me to get out of it more. Where's the sense in that?"

"Well, it's—"

"And besides, it would never work. I mean, if you think this flat's tiny, your quarters aren't exactly spacious."

"Yeah, but—"

"And you rarely sleep a whole night, and I have to go work in the archives late at night when I stay with you, just so I can fall asleep at my desk so I don't shoot anyone I shouldn't the next day."

"Really? I didn't know that. We'll have to—"

"And you wouldn't want me hanging about all the time, asking questions you don't want to answer, and you know I would because I can't contain my curiosity, and then you'd walk in on me playing with the tech, and I'd never get out of there, like you want me to, and thmnph!"

In a rare lapse of alertness on Ianto's part, Jack had leapt over the back of the sofa and captured him from behind, pinning both arms with one of his own and covering Ianto's mouth with his other hand. "Of all the people I ever thought I'd have to gag, you were the last. And I don't just mean in this century!"

"Fnngc onnghff!" Ianto struggled fiercely against Jack, but to no avail. Those arms were always much stronger than he reckoned.

"Will you shut … up!? You asked me what this was about, so let me answer!"

Ianto glared and cursed, but then had to admit that Jack had a point, and he settled.

"I want us _all_ to have more normal lives. After we lost Tosh and Owen, something inside me snapped. I don't know what or why, after all this time. All I know is that I don't want to see you and Gwen become ghosts of yourselves before your time. I mean Owen was a special case, but Tosh…" Jack's voice quavered. "Neither of them lived life to the fullest. Gwen's trying, at least, and I want that for you, too. And after all these years, I want that for _me_. I've spent so long trying to keep my distance because everyone I ever love is going to die before I do, that I don't even know I'm alive, half the time. So I want to buy a house with you, and share living … stuff, and okay, I can understand why you wouldn't want to marry me—okay, maybe I can't, because nobody's EVER turned me down, except for you, which you've done a lot, actually…. And then you'd have a comfortable, secure place to live that wasn't the Hub, and we wouldn't have to worry about waking the neighbours when we have noisy, _fantastic_ sex, and we could have separate rooms if you wanted, so you could sleep, only I really, really like sharing a bed with you, even though I throw the covers all over you when I actually do sleep, which I only seem to do at all well when you're there, and I'd really like to try some more of it, so please, Ianto. Just buy a house with me, or rent one, or steal one—we can retcon the owners—and let's just try this for a bit, cause you haven't had this in a while, and I—I just…" Jack released Ianto from his grip. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

Ianto rose and crossed as far as he could to the other side of the room. He took a moment to gather himself, knowing that if he didn't, he'd just stand there opening and closing his mouth as he tried to figure out what to say. The thought flitted through his mind that he really didn't want to be outdone in eloquence by a race of delinquent blowfish, and he shook his head. "You seem to feel strongly about this," he began. "You sure this isn't just some sort of … heightened afterglow? It has been awhile, after all, and quite a lot's happened."

"Yeah, that petrol tanker was a bit much. I hate burning to death. Good thing I stripped before going in there, though," Jack added, brightly. "I may be immortal, but my coat's—"

"That's not what I meant." Ianto fixed Jack with a stare that he hoped stripped away all semblance of tolerance for evasion.

"I know." Jack sighed and drew the blanket around himself. "Look, I told you, I don't know exactly what's changed, but I want to try this. I really want to marry you, but—"

"Out of the question," said Ianto, instantly.

"_But,_" insisted Jack with a look of deep, angry hurt that bored straight into Ianto's being for the nanosecond of its existence, "you don't want that, and I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want."

Ianto rubbed pointedly at his jaw where Jack had gagged him.

"All right, maybe some things, but you weren't listening to me!"

Ianto folded his arms and stared Jack down.

"You're right. I'm sorry." Jack's eyes flicked down and then back up, asking.

Ianto held his gaze for a moment, and then gave a brief nod.

"All I know is that I feel better when you're around, and I can't seem to settle when you're not. And you seem happier than I've seen you in a long time. I'd like to think I had something to do with that."

"You did," said Ianto, softly. "You do. But this sounds a lot like codependency to me. What if it's just some sort of addiction?"

"So what if it is?" Jack got up and wrapped the blanket around himself like a short toga, which made Ianto swallow. "We're all addicted to coffee. Any normal doctor taking a look at us would have us strapped to a table in detox the second they knew how much of it we drank. Do you plan on entering a rehab program for that?"

"No, of course not. Torchwood couldn't function without coffee."

"No, it couldn't. Not even if you weren't there to make it."

"Mine's better, though."

"Oh, yeah!" Jack grinned at him. "But even if you stopped making coffee," he continued, his smile softening as he took a tentative step towards Ianto, "even if you incinerated the coffeemaker and all the beans and told us we had to go get our own," another step, "I'd still want to be with you—" he stopped in mid-thought… "—unless you put us on instant or decaf, in which case I'd have to kill you."

"And I'd help."

"So would Gwen."

"And the new staff members. Whoever they are. Whenever they are."

"Yeah, well…" Jack shook his head firmly and looked away, blinking. It was another ongoing argument. "Look, what I'm trying to say is that I can find the caffeine I need in a pill, or a coffeemaker. I can't find what you give me anywhere else. Not in this time. Can you find what I give you, elsewhere?"

"You've got a point," said Ianto, after a long moment.

Jack folded his arms. "Oh yeah?" The hope in his voice belied the bravado of his smile. Not that the smile was all that convincing to begin with.

"Yeah. But I've got some rules."

"Go!"

"First, I'm only promising a year. Or until one of us dies—really dies—whichever comes first."

Jack's face fell, and for a moment, Ianto thought he saw Jack's world dissolving the way his own had done earlier, and he wondered how deep Jack's abyss was. "All right," said Jack at last, with an effort.

"Second," said Ianto, with a huge effort of his own not to cross the two steps between them and tell Jack that everything would be all right, when he wasn't at all sure that it would, "no stealing. It's wrong, impractical when it comes to housing, and retcon's getting used a bit too much and becoming expensive to make."

"I'll buy that," said Jack, with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"We get a two-bedroom place—probably a detached house, since you're right about the sex and the neighbours—and I reserve the right to kick you out of our room if you're being an arse when I'm trying to sleep."

"Our room?" This time, the smile did reach Jack's eyes.

"I like sharing a bed with you, too," said Ianto, with a soft smile. "Most of the time."

Jack smiled the happiest, most genuine smile Ianto had ever seen from him.

"Very much so," said Ianto, thickly. "Never doubt it." He returned Jack's smile in kind, aching to touch him. He cleared his throat. "No pets except for fish, and then only if they're interesting, live in a tank of something that won't kill anyone and don't talk or go joyriding in expensive cars. We have enough pets at the Hub, and Myfanwy's bound to follow us home one night."

Jack's face scrunched up in laughter. "I can live with that," he managed.

"Don't even think about getting pregnant! It's going to be bad enough when Gwen gives into Rhys." Ianto shuddered. "Little terrors'll be climbing all over the sub-etheric resonator."

Jack nodded in vehement agreement. "Been there, done that, not doing it again."

"We share cooking, cleaning and washing up." Ianto glared at Jack. "I know you can cook, so don't try skiving off by ruining a pot, or it'll be your own cooking for a month. And if you burn down the kitchen or the house, that's Tesco's cheapest coffee for a year."

"That's fair," said Jack, sheepishly, albeit through slightly gritted teeth.

"However," continued Ianto, "I do the laundry. Touch my shirts when I'm not in them, and you're living in the Hub, again."

"Picky!"

"Pay me ten times what I'm making now, and maybe I'll be able to afford twenty or thirty needlessly ruined shirts every six months," Ianto retorted.

"All right, all right! I won't touch your clothes except to get you out of them. Yeesh!"

Ianto smirked. And then, he took a very deep breath. "As for overnight guests—"

"There won't be any," said Jack, flatly.

"You can't say that with certainty," said Ianto. "and I don't think I could manage it if you brought other people back to shag."

"I won't be—"

"So if you're going to do that sort of thing, please do it where I don't have to know about it."

"I've been monogamous before, you know," said Jack, gently. "Hell, I've been married before! I was even good at it." He fixed Ianto with a challenging stare.

"Not happening," said Ianto. "That last rule is the most important, for me. Can you manage it?"

"Of course I can," said Jack, as though he'd been gut-punched.

Ianto nodded. "I know." He sighed. "Look, do you really want to do this? I mean, we'll hurt each other, and we'll fight over the stupidest things and we won't be able to stand each other and then we won't have anywhere to go when we want to get away…"

"You mean, like you needed to today," acknowledged Jack, quietly.

"Yeah, like that." Ianto stretched and ran his hand through his spiking hair. "You may have noticed I wasn't best pleased to see you when you showed up at the door."

"I thought I'd take a risk," said Jack. "Besides, it didn't work out too badly, did it?" He took another step towards Ianto, inviting.

"No," admitted Ianto, reluctantly.

"Maybe I'm not the only one who needs a sympathetic voice at the end of a rotten day."

That caught Ianto off guard.

"I know you get lonely," said Jack, all flirting and cover gone. "You said that to me once, remember?"

"Of course I do. I—"

"Remember everything, yes, I know. You know how I felt when you said that to me?"

"Well, I—never bothered to ask, did I? I always hoped you … didn't mind, too much."

"I felt warm, like you cared for me. I was very touched. And then it sank in that nobody—not one person, ever, in my entire life—had ever said that to me, had ever understood me like that, or taken the time to notice that about me, and I felt so loved. And god, was I scared!"

Ianto shifted, uncomfortably. "I never wanted to push you…"

"Ianto," laughed Jack, "you've _always_ pushed me!"

"I suppose," said Ianto, hiding himself in plain sight.

"I _love_ that about you. Keeps me on my toes."

"And you've made me stronger," conceded Ianto, "opened my eyes to a few things—a lot of things."

"So, see? Living together would make both our lives better, yours and mine. I mean, come on, you've gotta see—"

"Yes, yes, I said I would," said Ianto, nodding quickly and trying not to squeeze his eyes shut against the insanity of it all.

Jack whooped and pulled Ianto into a huge hug.

"There is just one more condition, though…"

"Ehunnnnngh WHAT!?" roared Jack, flinging himself back and gripping Ianto's shoulders hard in warning.

"You have to tell me how you cheat at naked hide and seek."

Jack stared at Ianto as though that question had sent him right over the edge into barking insanity and then burst out laughing. "You really don't know?"

"Nope. And if it's something dangerous like the singularity scalpel, I need to."

"Well," purred Jack, "it may be dangerous, but not like that." He pressed closer and rubbed his erection against Ianto's. "I can smell your arousal from fifty feet away." He took Ianto's hand and snaked it inside his makeshift garment. "Even if you aren't stiff, yet," he added in a thick, silky rumble.

Ianto's breath left him as his cock stiffened further.

"Can't you smell mine?"

"Oh, yeah," growled Ianto.

Jack moved in slowly for a hot, wet, beautifully filthy kiss as he slid Ianto's zip down and undid the button, slipping his hand over Ianto's cock.

They clung to each other, kissing and pulling each other closer as clothes fell off and heat built up. Ianto was dimly aware of the twinkling lights of the city outside, but his attention was on Jack's cock aligned against his own and his hand intertwined with Jack's as they stroked and pulled together until he cried out and came against Jack's slit, launching Jack into his own release. Spent, they slid down with each other to the floor, panting and holding one another. A perfect, quick and dirty coda to the long main event, Ianto thought. And then, he realized that there weren't any twinkling lights visible from his flat, unless one of the street lights was on the blink, and then it would be just one twinkling light, and….

"Don't look now, but we've got an audience," said Jack, with a twinkle in his voice.

Ianto turned around and looked. Outside the low bay window stood half a dozen drunken young men and women, three of them busy with flashing digital cameras and the others frantically texting on their mobiles.

Jack grinned and waved, and got up and posed.

Ianto rolled quickly to one side, flattening himself as best he could against the wall and floor. "First the flashy SUV, now the flashing Captain," he said. "So much for a top secret organisation."

"Wanna start looking at houses tomorrow?" asked Jack with a plastic grin on his face as he struck another he-man pose.

"Two-bedroom detached house, about a thousand acres of private forest, five minutes' walk from the Hub. I'll get right on it."

Jack laughed and closed the curtain.

* * *

_Present_

Three weeks and uncountable arguments later, they'd found a two-bedroom, semi-detached house with a small, private garden in back, ten minutes' walk from the Hub. It had taken Jack two weeks to persuade Ianto to buy it with him. It was clean, functional, required no additional work other than a bit of soundproofing and the normal Torchwood addenda, and the street was devoid of pubs. What had finally persuaded Ianto to take it was that the owners of the other half made wildlife documentaries for a living, and were only ever there for the Eisteddfod, Christmas and New Year. With the stipulations that they'd split the cost, and that they wouldn't let Myfanwy out when the other half was occupied, Ianto had run out of objections. Jack had bounded over to him when he'd capitulated and hugged him, hard, saying again and again that everything was going to be great, just fantastic.

And now, as they were signing for the place, Jack was more deeply panicked than Ianto had ever seen him.

"Jack, why did you sign when you so clearly don't want to do this?"

"I _do_ want this. At least, I think I want this. Right? Tell me I want this."

"And I'm the younger one," grumbled Ianto. "Look, I can't tell you what you want."

"You do it all the time when we're … you know…."

"Shagging?"

"Yeah, that," said Jack.

"You can flash a crowd of drunken pub crawlers from my lounge when we've just come in each other's hands, but you can't say 'shagging' when we're alone in a room full of leather and office equipment that makes you hard? Look over there! It's a fax machine! Sitting all alone and lonely in the corner—"

Jack clamped down on Ianto's wrist. "Look, I signed, all right? So obviously I want to do this. What about you? Why haven't you signed?"

"Because I want you to be happy with me, not miserable!" Ianto pulled his wrist out of Jack's grip and rubbed it. "Well, as happy as anyone at Torchwood can be, that is. You know, on balance…."

"I _am_ happy with you! I've just spent the last five weeks trying to convince you how good this could be for both of us. I mean, you're worth it, but I've never had to work so hard for anything in my life!"

And just then, the gingerbread castle came crashing down on Ianto's head in millions of little puzzle pieces that laid themselves out, rearranging the picture in front of him in a way that finally made sense.

"I want this, Jack," he said, pushing his way through all the barriers he'd thought had been Jack's. It was hard going, like forging through the mire of a giant bog, and John Hart was there mocking him, all the way. "I want it all so badly, I can taste it." His own voice seemed far away as his mouth let the truth out. "I want you for as long as—eternity. I can't get enough of you. Which is why I keep trying to let what we have already _be_ enough, cause it's just pathetic, otherwise."

"So that's what you meant when you climaxed that night." Jack's voice sounded closer, calmer… contemplative.

Ianto became aware of the steady, warm pressure of a shoulder against his. "What I meant when—wait… What did I say?"

"Well, you yelled 'Eternity!' People shout the strangest things when they come. I once had a boyfriend that—"

"Not now…"

"Sorry." Jack was sitting beside him, holding his hand.

"I'm sorry for making you work so hard."

"Don't be. It's good for me."

"I didn't know … I didn't want to hurt you."

"Pfft! I'm a big boy. I can take it."

"I can take my shoulder being reset. Doesn't mean I like it."

Jack put his arm around Ianto's shoulders and kissed his temple.

Ianto leant into the embrace, his head on Jack's shoulder. "You still want this house?"

"Ianto!" growled Jack, as he rested his head against Ianto's.

"Well, I was just thinking … it's a great house for a year, but if—if we're going to be at this for a bit longer than that, well … is it what you want?"

"It's better than your flat. No offence… And we've already half committed to it. Or, well, half of us have committed to it. And it's kind of cute and inconspicuous, and we could have a place where we can have sex without worrying about our co-workers walking in on us, and … what did you say?"

Ianto sighed, and signed the paper in front of him. "At the rate you're going, we'll need a place to talk about all this for the next year."

"Talk about all what?"

"Jack…" Ianto swallowed. "Look, do you still want to—"

"YES! Damn it, Ianto, I still want this bloody house! How many times do I have to—oh. You signed, already. You're not talking about the house. Do I still want to…?"

"Marry me."

"What?"

"Do you still want to, um, marry me?"

"Are you available?"

"Jack…"

"Yeah," said Jack, softly, "I do."

Ianto groaned. "I really wish you hadn't put it quite that way."

"So, you want me to say 'I don't' when it comes to the wedding vows?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "I can't believe I'm going to suggest this, but why don't we go have a look at the paperwork on the way back to the Hub? Maybe if we fight enough about it for the next year, you can persuade me to sign something."

Jack beamed at him. "Sounds like a plan."


End file.
